


A New Reflection

by yarnandtea



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Post-Series, finale continuation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21820273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yarnandtea/pseuds/yarnandtea
Summary: Sam's made his decision to keep on leaping--striving to put right what once went wrong. But Al's not about to let his best friend go it alone.
Relationships: Al Calavicci/Beth Calavicci, Gooshie/Tina (Quantum Leap), Sam Beckett/Donna Elesee
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	A New Reflection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BardicRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BardicRaven/gifts).



> Okay, first off, SO MANY SPOILERS. I acknowledge this show has been off the air for something like twenty years (which makes me feel oh so old), but if you don't know the big twists of the series, or how it ended, you will be spoiled. 
> 
> Second, thank you so much to BardicRaven for choosing this fandom because it gave me the opportunity to do a curated rewatch of the series and it was much needed and enjoyed. I hope you like what I've come up with for you! I had so much fun writing it. 
> 
> Keeping in the theme of "putting right" I wanted to try to address one thing I felt like was a glaring loose end, but also honor the choice I feel like Sam made at the end of the series. Since it wasn't intended to be the END, I tried to keep this in the spirit of that. 
> 
> Happy Yuletide, y'all! 
> 
> Cue the theme music...

“Are you sure, Ziggy? Are you _absolutely_ certain?”

“I’m afraid I am, Admiral Calavicci. I’ve compiled all available data from Cokeburg, Pennsylvania in August of 1953. The only conceivable reason Doctor Beckett could have leaped there was to save those miners. According to you, he had already completed that task when we found him. He should have leaped by now.”

“Well, he _hasn’t_!” Al waved his cigar in the air, trying to rein in his exasperation.

“Perhaps he is correct, then” Ziggy suggested. Al was sure he imagined it, but even the computer’s calm demeanor seemed to be cracking under the stress of the day. “After all, Quantum Leap _is_ his project. It is not outside the realm of possibility that he has been the one controlling his jumps all of this time. It would certainly explain why we have never been able to bring him home, aside from unforeseen complications such as the lightning strike.”

Al glowered at the ceiling, then hollered, “Gooshie!”

“Yes, Admiral?” The little man seemed to appear from nowhere. He shot a nervous glance between Al and Ziggy’s interface unit, picking up on the tension.

“I’m going back to Sam,” Al told him. “You keep scanning. See if you can talk some sense into Ziggy here. _No one_ wants Sam to come home more than Sam does, and if we don’t figure out what the hell is going on, we’re gonna lose him!”

“Admiral…”

“Not now, Ziggy. I’ve gotta get to Sam.” He opened the door to the imaging chamber and stepped inside, already tapping in the commands on his handlink. It beeped and flashed, but nothing happened. Al slapped it and tapped in the command again. Nothing happened.

“Admiral, I think—”

Al stormed back out of the chamber, waving the handlink. “Ziggy! Why isn’t this thing working?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Admiral. We’ve lost our lock on Doctor Beckett. I believe he has leapt at last.”

“But,” Al stared at Ziggy’s interface unit and then at Gooshie, “where did he go?”

“I’m sorry, Admiral, but I don’t have that information at this time.”

A thought occurred to Al. “The waiting room! Is anyone in the—”

“No,” Ziggy responded, starting to sound as frustrated as Al felt. “The waiting room remains empty. Wherever Doctor Beckett has leapt, he has gone as himself.”

Al sagged, the fight draining out of him. Leapt again, with no way to track him.

“Shall we run another scan to try to get a lock, Admiral?” Gooshie asked, stepping toward Ziggy.

“No.” Al’s stomach roiled at the thought. He glanced at the cigar in his hand and then dropped it to the floor, grinding the lit end beneath his heel. “We got lucky last time.” He scowled at the handlink, mind racing through their options. “All right, Sam. If that really was God or fate or whoever, I want to talk to him. Gooshie! Prepare the accelerator!”

“Al, I don’t think that’s the wisest move,” Gooshie tried, dropping all formality in his surprise at the order.

“Maybe not,” Al agreed, “but it’s the only one we’ve got right now. Ziggy!”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“Can you send me back to that bar on that date?”

“I believe so. Into whom do you wish to leap?”

“I don’t care! Just get me to that bar!”

“Well. You’re somebody new, Tonchi. Who are you now, I wonder?”

Al gave himself a shake and looked into the big mirror behind the bar, rubbing a hand over his chin, his reflection doing the same to the chin of Frank LaMotta. “Tonchi?”

“Oh, I imagine he’s quite confused, wherever you sent him. Why don’t you get on with your business so he can be back where he belongs?”

Swiss-cheesed brain or not, he’d managed to hold onto why he was here. Al narrowed his eyes and turned to the speaker, the bartender who had the audacity to be using _his_ name. “Al,” he said, glaring. “That’s you, isn’t it? Or is it God? Fate? Time? Something else?”

“Just Al will do,” the bartender said, leaning back and wiping down a glass. “What can I do for you?”

“You can tell me where you sent Sam.”

“Ah. I thought that might be it.” The bartender set the glass down and leaned forward. “I didn’t send him anywhere. He sent himself.”

“That’s impossible,” Al scowled. “That’s not how this works!”

“Oh, I would think by now you’ve realized that you don’t really know how this works.”

“Well, then,” Al leaned in, “why don’t you enlighten me?”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“The hell it isn’t!”

The bartender arched a brow. “No need for hostility, friend.”

“I’m not your friend. You’re keeping Sam from coming home!”

“I’m not keeping him from anything. The choice to keep leaping was his.”

“It can’t have been!”

“Can’t it have? Why did he start this project?”

Al sighed. “To help people.” He rubbed his face again, meeting the bartender’s eyes. “But how are _we_ supposed to help him? We can’t get a lock without knowing where he’s leapt.”

“Maybe you’re not supposed to help him anymore. Maybe he’s learned enough to do this on his own.”

“No! I don’t buy it. He deserves better. After everything he’s done for you—”

“Not for _me_.”

“Well, for everyone, then! After all of that, he’s earned more than an eternity of loneliness, leaping through time without anyone by his side!”

“You really do care for him an awful lot, don’t you?” The bartender tilted his head, looking Al over. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“ _I’m_ lucky to have _him_.” Al insisted. “He’s the best friend I’ve ever had and I’m not about to abandon him to fate or time or destiny or whatever the hell this is!”

“It’s not hell, Al, I can promise you that,” the bartender answered.

Al paused. He hadn’t said who he was. “How did you...?"

The bartender reached out and grabbed his wrist. “If you really want to help him, you already have everything you need to find Sam. Do you understand? Find _Sam_.” He let go and stepped away, nodding at a customer trying to get his attention. “Now,” he turned back to Al, “don’t you think you ought to be getting back home?”

Everything began to tingle and Al felt like he blacked out for a moment. When he came to, he was back in the accelerator and Gooshie was rushing in to help him up. “Admiral! You’re back! Are you back? Al?”

“It’s me, Gooshie.” He said, getting to his feet.

“Did you, um, did you learn anything useful?”

Al frowned. Had he? “Maybe,” he answered. “Call in the whole team. We need to figure this out.”

The circumstances of Sam’s most recent leap were strange enough that the whole team was already on site. It wasn’t long before Al was standing in front of Gooshie, Tina, Doctor Beeks, Donna, and Sammy Jo. _Doctor Fuller_ , he corrected himself. It wouldn’t do any good right now to forget that as far as she was concerned, Sam was just her colleague and nothing more. Ziggy was there, too, of course. She always was. The computer was represented by a smaller interface unit on the table they all sat around.

“Here’s what we know,” he said, laying out everything Sam and the bartender had told him, along with every scrap of data Ziggy had been able to compile about the leap. “If they’re right,” Al finished, “we can’t bring Sam home. Only he can do that. But he’s still leaping, which means he still needs our help. So it’s up to us to figure out how we _find_ him, whenever and wherever he is.”

Donna closed her eyes and let out a long breath, nodded to herself, then opened them and glanced around the table. “Suggestions?”

“Doctor Beckett is bodily leaping now, correct?” Sammy Jo asked. Al tried not to notice how her brow furrowed in the exact same way as Sam’s when he had an idea. Hope swelled in him at the sight.

“That’s right. What are you thinking?”

“Facial recognition software,” she said, leaning forward.

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but there weren’t surveillance cameras around for most of Sam’s lifetime.”

Sammy Jo grinned. “No, but facial recognition _has_ been. It was developed in the sixties. There were still cameras. Newspapers. Other photographic records. The algorithms for facial recognition were designed for mugshots to start, and they’ve only improved since then.” Her grin faded. “It will take time, but if we load up Ziggy with records from across Doctor Beckett’s lifetime—”

“Better make it the whole twentieth century,” Al suggested, catching on, “just to be safe. Then we just have Ziggy look for _Sam_ where he’s not supposed to be!”

“Do we have that sort of time?” Tina asked. Gooshie reached over to take her hand, their matching wedding bands reflecting the soft glow of Ziggy’s interface lights.

“I’m not sure we have any other options,” Donna replied. She took a moment, considering, then said, “Ziggy, will it work? Can you adapt your search that way?”

“Of course, Doctor Elesee. Although I might need a storage upgrade.”

“We can swing that,” Gooshie said, sounding eager.

“I’ll run a profile on all of the leaps Doctor Beckett has made so far,” Doctor Beeks chimed in. “That might help Ziggy narrow her search.”

“All right,” Donna said, standing up. “It sounds like we’ve got a plan. Thank you, everyone. Let’s get to work.” The rest of the group stood and filed out of the room. Donna hung back and placed a hand on Al’s arm. “A word?”

“Sure.”

He stopped and waited beside her. Once everyone else was gone, she turned to him. “Even if this does work, we won’t have any way of determining what order he’s leaping to the places we find him. Sam’s jumps have always been all over the place, chronologically speaking.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” Al shrugged. “But what else are we going to do?”

Donna looked away and swallowed, then turned and caught his eyes. “We could do nothing. Shutter the project. Leave him be.”

“Oh, come on, Donna, you’re joking,” Al laughed. But she didn’t, and he peered at her more closely. “Don’t you want to find him?”

“If you’re right about what happened in that bar, he made his choice. He left us behind. Well,” she amended, swallowing again, “he left you behind. He doesn’t remember me.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t still love you; you know.”

That earned him a half-smile. “You’re a hopeless romantic, Al, do you know that? Beth is a lucky woman.”

“Hey, I’m the lucky one there,” he grinned at her, then sobered. “You gave the go-ahead. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that this is our last chance. If it doesn’t work, then we do need to be prepared to walk way. Like I said, he made his choice.”

“Don’t you give up on him, Donna. I’m not. This will work. You’ll see.”

“I hope so, Al,” she nodded. “All right, I’ve kept you long enough. Get to work, and good luck.”

Sam ducked behind the news crew covering the opening of yet another art gallery in Taos and crossed the street to the café that even his swiss-cheese brain could no longer erase. Somehow, in deciding to continue leaping, memories that he had never been able to hold onto had cemented themselves in his mind. A reward for giving up the charade that this wasn’t what he was meant to do? Or just a side effect of leaping in his own body? Sam didn’t think he’d ever know for sure. He’d started to accept there were many things he was never going to know for sure. It was, somehow, a freeing realization.

He stepped behind a potted tree to avoid a young man racing out of the café, noting with nostalgia the lack of grey in the hair. Moving with purpose, he went inside, pausing only for a moment to gain his bearings and zero in the person he was there to see. The familiar young woman was just getting up to leave the table as he approached.

“Donna? Do you have a minute?”

She heard him before she saw him. “Did you forget something, Sam? I thought you were running late for a meet—”

She finished turning around and saw him, eyes going wide. Her purse slipped from her hand and Sam darted forward to catch it before it could hit the ground. “You might need this,” he said, holding it out to her.

“Sam?” Her voice shook as she reached for the purse. “How? What?”

“It’s a bit of a long story.” He gestured to the table. “Sit with me? I know we just finished our first date, but…” he pulled out the chair and was gratified when she didn’t hesitate to sit back down.

“If you think I _don’t_ want to hear this,” she shook her head, a wavering smile forming, “well, I know we’ve only just met, but let me tell you, that’s now how I work.”

“You’ve only just met me,” he corrected, sitting across from her, resisting the urge to reach out and take her hand. Gosh, she looked so _young_. Had they ever been so young? “I’ve known you for quite a while.”

The edges of her lips quirked up. “I take it the date did go as well as I thought, then? So,” she tilted her head, looking at him up and down. “Is it time travel, then? My date just told me he had so many theories about it. Or is this a joke Sam’s dragged an uncle or grandfather into?”

“Grandfather? Oh, boy.” Sam couldn’t help but laugh though. Leaping _had_ aged him.

“A very distinguished grandfather,” Donna promised, laughing as well.

“No, it’s me, Sam. You were right the first time. I can’t go into too much detail, but—”

“Let me guess,” she held up a hand, looking him over. “You’re from the future, here to warn me that I must keep seeing you or something terrible will happen. Or does this have anything to do with us at all? Some other warning for me?”

“Yes, no, yes, and…maybe?”

“All right. Out with it, then.”

Beth, he’d had to convince to believe him. Donna seemed ready to just dive right down the rabbit hole.

He smiled, and a not insubstantial part of him protested at what he was about to do. Being with Donna had always been so easy, but…nothing that was coming was fair to her. “You could keep seeing me—him—and things will turn out all right, more or less. But I think you should know that in the end I have to go away. It wasn’t my fault at first, at least not consciously, but my work, the work I do, I can’t turn away from it. Too many people would be hurt.”

“I see.” Donna frowned, trying to piece through his jumbled attempt at an explanation. “So, we do end up together?”

“As of history right now, yes.”

“And we’re happy until you…go away?”

“So happy,” Sam managed, sitting back in his seat to avoid reaching for her. “But then everything goes, as a friend put it, a little caca, and, well, then I’m just gone, and you’re left to wait. I don’t want you to wait. Not for me. It isn’t fair to you.”

Donna sighed. “So, what are you saying, I should break things off now? Never see you—him—again?”

“If that’s what you decide,” Sam said, swallowing.

“Is this guilt,” she asked, “or do you really care for me—her—that much?”

“Can it be both?”

“Maybe,” she agreed. “I guess I don’t really know.” She sighed again. “It’s a shame. I really liked him. Not just attraction, but talking, you know?”

“I do,” Sam agreed.

“Is there a third option?”

“Such as?”

“I could be his friend.”

A wave of relief so profound Sam’s breath caught washed over him. “That…could work. If you’re willing.”

Donna leaned forward and took his hand. “Well, I don’t suppose the future’s written yet?” She arched a brow at him in question.

“Even what’s written can be changed,” Sam managed.

“Then I guess it’s worth a try.” She pushed back and stood, giving him a thoughtful look. “Thank you, Sam, and good luck. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Maybe you will.” He watched her go, waiting until she slipped through the door before letting out a whispered, “Goodbye Donna.”

No matter what she decided, she wouldn’t remember his visit. It would fade in her memory like a dream, but she’d keep a vague sense of what they’d talked about, and that was the important thing. It was like the miners forgetting about Stawpah after his work was done. Leaping in person rather than _into_ a person had a slightly different set of rules, but Sam had been piecing them together. They gave him the flexibility he needed to avoid notice and carry out his work without disturbing history _too_ much.

After he could no longer see Donna, he rose from the table and left the café, wondering why he hadn’t leapt yet. He’d definitely done what he came here to do. He looked around for somewhere out of the way to stand while he waited, then almost jumped out of his skin when a familiar voice cried out behind him.

“ _There_ you are, Sam! Gooshie! Tell Ziggy it worked! Oh man, I can’t _believe_ that worked. Well, I mean, I can, because it was Sammy Jo’s idea, but let me tell you it was touch and go for a while there—”

“Hello, Al,” Sam said, turning around with a grin and walking toward the sight for sore eyes that was his friend’s hologram.

“Hello, Al? Is that all you have to say?”

“It’s good to see you,” Sam added, ducking into an alley to avoid attention. “How were you able to find me?”

“Well, like I said, Sammy Jo came up with an idea. We loaded up any photographic or video documentation we could get our hands on and ran a facial recognition search.” He gestured toward the news crew, just wrapping up their story across the street. “The first hit we got was you in the background on the local news. Figures we’d find you so close to home.” He shook his head and stuck his cigar in his mouth, then glanced down at the handlink. “Not sure _why_ you’re here, though.” He slapped the side of the handlink. “Ziggy thinks—”

“Ask Ziggy about Donna.”

Al stared at him. “How do you—”

“Some of my memories have been restored,” Sam explained, “just ask, please.”

“Well, all right. I don’t know what you need to ask Ziggy for, though. I just saw her, and—”

“ _Al_.”

“I’m asking, I’m asking! Huh. That’s…” he glanced up at Sam, confusion his face. “Sam, what did you do?”

“What’s it say, Al?” Aside from his friend’s company, the biggest thing Sam missed about leaping the old way was knowing how things turned out after his intervention. As glad as he was to see Al again, he was also eager to find out if his idea had worked.

“Well, it says here that Donna’s still the director of Project Quantum Leap in your absence, but, er, well, the two of you were never married.”

“Friends?”

Al peered at the handlink. “Looks like. You’ve collaborated together since you met on Project Star Bright. You brought her on to this project, in fact.”

“Good,” Sam let out a shaky breath. “That’s good.” It was the best possible outcome he could think of. “Is she happy?”

“Ziggy can’t say for sure, but from the data it looks like it. She’s been married for the past ten years to a,” he made a face, “high school English teacher. What’s going on, Sam?”

“It wasn’t fair to her to leave her behind like that.”

“If you remember Donna, you remember that she didn’t mind.”

“She understood, Al. That’s not the same thing.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I’ve accepted that I’m not coming home, Al. I wanted to make it right for her.”

“But you’re in charge now, right? You _can_ come home?”

“What I’m doing is important Al.”

“Well, yeah, but.” Sam could see Al struggling to think of a way to convince him to come back. His eyes lit up as an idea hit him. “What about Sammy Jo?”

“What about her?”

“Don’t you want to meet her? See her all grown up?”

“Does she know I’m her father?”

“Er, well, no.”

“Is she happy?”

“Yeah. She’s amazing.”

Sam nodded to himself. “Then she doesn’t need me.”

“What about me?” Al protested. “I’m just supposed to let my friend keep wandering about through time?” He glowered.

Sam tilted his head, giving Al a long look. “How’s Beth?”

“Now don’t you go trying to change the subject!”

“Humor me, Al, how is she?”

“She’s fine. She took the girls to a spa retreat.”

“The girls?”

“Don’t tell me your swiss-cheese brain left that part out. Our daughters, Sam.” Al rolled his eyes.

Sam let out a soft chuckle. “You have daughters.”

“Same four I’ve always had,” Al huffed. Then his eyes narrowed. “Wait, are you telling me—”

“Beth never remarried while you were a P.O.W.?”

Al looked taken aback. “No. She admitted she started to lose hope, but something made her hold out, and then when Maggie Dawson got that picture of me, it was sent up the chain of command and they let her know—are you telling me that’s not how you remember it?”

“Does it matter?” Sam was elated to learn his first solo leap had worked. He’d always wondered. He supposed since Al hadn’t been with him when he’d convinced Beth her husband was alive, Al’s memories had been rewritten with everyone else’s on the matter. “Are you happy together, Al?”

“Course we are,” Al said, drawing on his cigar.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He frowned as it occurred to him that he still hadn’t leapt. From what Ziggy had told Al when Sam asked, the thing he’d come here to do had been accomplished. “Look, Al, I’ll probably be going soon—”

“Don’t suppose you can give me a hint as to where? Might make it easier to get to you. Donna says we probably won’t be able to follow you in order.” He laughed. “That’s going to keep things interesting.”

Sam blinked. “Wait, you’re still going to come with me?”

“You think I’d leave you here alone?”

“I—” Sam thought it over. It would be nice to have the company, and the help. If they were searching for him using facial recognition instead of the people he leapt into, Al might not be there for every leap, but some was better than none. Was that what the bartender had meant about the leaps getting harder? He looked up. “Are you sure about this?”

“Hey, where you go, I go, pal. We’re in this together until the end.”

“All right, then.” Sam grinned, and felt the tell-tale tingling of a leap beginning. “See you around Al.”

He came back to himself amid the overwhelming smell of chlorine. Sam turned, looking around to get a handle on his surroundings. He just managed to determine that he was standing on the edge of a pool when someone running toward him shouted, “Outta my way!”

Still getting his bearings from the leap, Sam wasn’t quick enough and the runner barreled past him, shoving Sam into the pool. He had time for one thought before he hit the water.

_Oh, boy!_


End file.
